


A Soul to Steal

by Filthmonger



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Ass Play, Blood, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Boot Worship, Boys in Chains, Cowgirl Position, Digimon/Human Relationships, F/M, Femdom, Foot Jobs, Gangbang, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Latex, Male Solo, Master/Slave, Multi, Original Character(s), Torture, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 21:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10839705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filthmonger/pseuds/Filthmonger
Summary: After a narrow confrontation with the Digidestined, LadyDevimon makes off with a hapless captive. The next few weeks are a mixture of hellish torture and heavenly pleasure as she subjects her poor human slave to the worst and best she can offer.





	1. Theft

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission piece from a lovely client. It took me a long time, but it seems to have paid off. Hopefully you'll all enjoy it as much as they did.

When Aaron had woken up that morning, the worst he had expected from his day was someone getting his order wrong at the coffee shop. Maybe a light scolding for a stupid mistake at work. Not that he could be blamed for that, since working the day after Christmas was an absolute nightmare. What he absolutely didn’t expect was to be plucked from the street by a set of scarlet talons, his bags tumbling to the ground several feet below him. What little breath hadn’t been knocked out of him was lost in futile screams as the ground sped beneath him. The beating of wings and rush of air drowned his senses, stinging his eyes and filling his ears. Even when he finally found himself still his mind was reeling and stomach turning. And so he hung limply from the claws, queasy and thoroughly disorientated, staring down at the pavement mere inches from his face.

“Let him go!” A young voice cried out. Aaron’s head cleared enough to recognise the sound of small feet rushing towards him. He raised his head groggily. Were those… children? He blinked; they were. Three children, rushing towards him and… whomever it was that was holding him. He peered to his right, shocked to find himself staring at a pair of incredibly shiny black boots, marked with simple red patterns. Eyes on one, a bat on the other. He craned his head upward, and his eyes widened. She –or so he assumed from the very feminine proportions- was tall and broad shouldered. Her bodysuit shined just as bright as the boots it ended in, with a number of tears giving the impression she had been in a gang fight at a BDSM club. Through those tears Aaron could see skin that was so beyond pale it went into actual shades of grey. Her toned muscles were obvious, even without the rips, as the suit hugged her body like a second skin. Stitches, chains and iron bracelets draped and clung to the tight latex, elevating her from kinky fantasy to dangerous lunatic. From her back two ragged and holey wings descended, the material more resembling a split cloak than feathers or leather. From one shoulder, a curious projection floated; like a ghostly face with a forever outreaching hand. Her head was covered in a mask of the same latex as her suit, leaving enough space to show a smirking mouth and letting her waist-length white hair cascade down her back. Two wholly red and wholly intelligent eyes peered through, resting on the encroaching youngsters.

“Why should I? My new friend and I were just getting a little closer.” She said. She hoisted him onto his feet before her right arm pinned him against her body. The top of his head barely brushed against her chin.

“What the hell is going on?” Aaron struggled against her grip, the smooth suit creaking and the chains tinkling. His gaze flicked from his captor to the children; two adolescent girls and what appeared to be a young man in a strange costume. Some sort of birdman, with a high-tech armour and visor. “Whatever costume party bullshit this is I don’t want any part of it!”

“Aw, you don’t like being my shield?” She said with a smirk. Her grip tightened, cutting off more of Aaron’s already severely limited breathing room, and dragged a long, scarlet claw along his chin. Aaron’s heart stopped as he felt the razor sharp edge glide along his skin and rest against his neck. The tip pressed gently against him, a sharp little pain and bead of blood following. “People would pay for this kind of treatment, you know.”

“You coward! That’s fighting dirty!” One of the girls said. Her cosplaying companion snarled, knuckles whitening.

“Oh, you humans are so pathetic with your ‘honour’ and ‘compassion.’” Came the amused reply. “It’s cute to see you talk about cowardice. What’s the matter, bird-boy, waiting for an invitation? Go ahead and give me your best shot!” Her smirk grew as the birdman’s obvious anger was reaching its peak. The tightly pressed suit squeaked loudly in Aaron’s ears as she cackled.

“Why are you… doing this… to me?” He struggled to say. The claw pressed deeper, letting another drop of hot blood roll down his collarbone. His hands locked tightly around her forearm, futilely trying to protest against her grip.

“What can I say? I love to see runts like you squirm.” She said. Her ears pricked up, the chains swinging as a tremor shook the ground. The smirk grew. “As much as I’d love to stick around and play with you children, it seems like my partner wants your attention. I suggest you go and keep him entertained; MarineDevimon can get so very impatient!”

Aaron screamed as the great wings launched the two of them from the pavement. The claw’s grip moved from his neck to his chest, the talons clutching him tight enough to leave bruises as he was slung about the wind like a paper bag. His screams of protest and confusion grew as he caught glimpses of the two imposing figures clashing above the skyline; a kaiju-esque squid creature locked in combat with a Sumerian idol. He was going mad, he managed to conclude amidst the panic. He was going absolutely fucking mad.

 

***

 

What little breath returned to him was forced out as he was tossed unceremoniously to the ground. The bruises from the claws were already forming around his ribs, which he could see clearly through the almost surgical tears in his shirt, and every muscle ached. He dry heaved against the wall, hand against cold stone. His head spun wildly, his feet refused to support him and even the still ground twirled beneath him. Defeated, he sat against the grey, stone wall. His vision slowly adjusted to the cave’s darkness, revealing little. It was large, for sure; the kind of place you’d expect a bear to make its home in. But it was empty, save for him and his captor. She stared out from the mouth, her claws tightly grasping the edge. She was tense; that much he could tell from the lack of motion, and the subsequent creaking of her suit.

“How… how the fuck did you do that?” Aaron finally said. He lightly held his forehead, trying to steady himself. “How the fuck can you fucking fly? Who the fuck was that bird thing? What the fuck were those, those…” he fumbled for a second. “Monsters?”

“Digital Monsters.” She said. She turned from the entrance and marched toward him, boots echoing against the stone.

“What? You’re not making any sen-“ He began, before a long, thin lance embedded itself beside his head. His eyes widened, following along past the cracked stone and up the black spear as it merged with his captor’s freakishly long left arm. He couldn’t stop himself from mouthing another obscenity.

“I don’t need to explain anything to you, runt.” She growled. “Because of those kids, I failed my mission for Lord Daemon, which means that returning to the digital world right now is certain death. Hence why we’re here in this damp and disgusting cave and not lounging around a more suitable dungeon! And the only reason you are alive is because if I have to endure several days of agonising exile I am going to do it with at least one poor innocent who I can have some fun with.” She withdrew the lance, and it quickly unfolded back into the terrifying scarlet talons. “So, to summarise; if you want to live you had better make your suffering entertaining.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” He said, before her boot slammed into his stomach.

“Ah, ah. That’s no way to address me.” She leant in, her solid red eyes gleaming with malice. “The name’s LadyDevimon, but from now on you refer to me only as ‘Your majesty’, ‘Mistress’ or ‘Goddess’. I’m feeling generous, so I’ll let you choose.”

“Bitch!”

“Ooh, a defiant one, are we?” Her smirk grew. The human hand firmly grabbed his chin, gently turning his face from side to side. He tried to snarl or scowl, but her grip just tightened to painful levels. “Hmm, you’re kind of cute too. Maybe I won’t rip your face to shreds.”

“You wouldn’t anyway.” He said. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared her down. “Those kids were right; you’re all talk. Just a coward.” He tried to keep his breathing and gaze level. Her eyes narrowed and his heart fluttered; he’d thought those were just red lenses in a latex mask. Then again, with the wings, and the claw, and the other monsters… oh fuck. Something must have tipped her off to his realisation, as she drew away with a sadistic smile on her grey lips. A second later, and his chest was alight with pain. He screamed, clutching the trio of scratches as droplets of blood slipped past his fingers and stained the stone floor. His skin erupted in goosebumps; half from fear, the other from cold as the scraps of his shirt were pulled aside. A boot slammed into his side, knocking him painfully onto his back before it pressed its heel against his neck. His hands jumped to grasp it by the ankle, pushing and pulling weakly. She pressed harder. He looked up, barely able to breathe, and his blood ran cold as he watched her sensually lick a dark red droplet from the tip of her claws. Another droplet fell onto the smooth, black curve of her shiny breast, slowly sliding down her body until it pooled against the top of one of the metal staples just below her navel.

“W-what the fuck are you?” He stammered. He let out a strangled cry as she pressed harder.

“I already told you; I’m a Digimon. A digital monster. But you already know what to call me, don’t you? Go ahead, say it.”

“Lady... devimon?” Again, her boot pressed harder. Little lights started to dance on the edge of his vision.

“You don’t get to call me that, runt! So let’s try again; what name do I let you call me?”

“A-ah…” He struggled beneath her boot, his lungs burning and eyes watering. Finally, with choked breaths… “Mistress…”

“Oh?” She slowly slackened, smirking as he gasped for breath. “Say it again.”

“… Mistress.” Aaron said. He could feel an indignant flush come to his cheeks.

“Oho, how wonderful. Once more, with feeling.”

“Your name… is Mistress.” He closed his eyes, cursing himself. If he had been a braver man maybe he would have said something smart, but lancing pain of his chest quelled him. Her foot left his neck entirely and he sat up, turning his face from her as he felt the rough indentations her soles had left on his skin. A scarlet tip tapped under his chin, making him flinch in expected pain. Slowly she turned his gaze upwards, along the still sparkling trail the blood drop had left on her skin-tight suit. His face flushed hotter as he stared past her breasts and into her the gleaming eyes.

“That’s a good start, slave.” She purred. The human hand gently rubbed his cheek and rustled his hair. The claw traced its way along his collarbone as she began to pace around him, her hips swaying seductively. He couldn’t help but find his eyes drawn to the way the suit hugged every impressive curve of her body, even as the razor’s edge danced along his skin and the fresh scratches burnt. “If we’re going to live together for a while, we should lay down a few ground rules. Number one; you do as I say. You already seem to have that one figured out, don’t you?” She let out a soft chuckle. 

“Number two; you don’t get to leave this cave unless I say so. I know your head is probably filled with cowardly thoughts of escape, but if you do I will find you…” She left the sentence hanging, her claws resting against the side of his neck.

“Of course, I may have to leave you alone every now and then. I know you pathetic creatures are high maintenance, and I would hate for a new toy to up and die of starvation. And finally, number three… I get to do what I want to you, whenever I want.” She emphasised the last sentence by dragging the claws slowly along his scratches, making him gaps and flinch. She creaked gently as she bent down behind him, her mouth resting beside his ear. “Make it entertaining and maybe I’ll let you live longer. Is all of that clear?”

“… Yes, Mistress.” Aaron said through gritted teeth. He shook a little as claws ran down his back. His skin crawled with every step she took.

“No objections? Not even a little defiance?” She chuckled. “You’re easier to break than I thought. How pathetic.” Her claws flicked, pain lancing up his back as they dug lightly into his flesh. The warm droplets spattered onto his shoulders. He bit his lip, scream muffled.


	2. Indecency

Aaron counted four days since his capture. On the first, he had waited until she had left, and rushed from the cave. He’d made it barely a hundred yards from the entrance before the chain had struck his leg and he had tumbled into the mud. She’d laughed, sitting atop his prone form and holding his head against the mud. Told him she knew he would try it. That she always knew. That night she had chained him to her, and forced him to sleep in the cave entrance. After all, she had said, if he wanted to be outside he only needed to ask. The cold, howling wind had left him scarce few of hours of sleep, many of which were light and filled with dark dreams of blades and blood. On the second she had returned with stolen food and bedding. She had claimed the latter, of course; sitting upon a pile of cushions and blankets as he gorged himself on junk food. She’d asked him if he enjoyed the meal. When he said yes, she forced him to thank her. To beg her to be as generous in the future. He’d hesitated too long, and was pressed against the wall. He’d slept inside that night, but still shivered against cold stone. On the third she’d given him a sleeping bag to curl up inside, after he begged her for something warm. She’d relented, but only after telling him there was no chance of anyone finding him; that the heroic little kids had abandoned him. He didn’t know who they were, but he had quietly defied her. That night he thought of the monstrous battle he had witnessed during their flight from the city and wondered how many had gone missing. Wondered if his name was on the list.

On the fourth day she took flight in the morning, leaving him to sit on his grubby little nest. He waited. He didn’t know how long for exactly, but simply stayed still until the time seemed right. Slowly he unfurled himself, his limbs aching, and he crawled toward the expanse of comfort she had accumulated at the back of the cave. At first it had been an act of defiance; how dare she sleep in comfort whilst he shivered? But now it seemed almost like a necessity. He let himself relax into the multitude of blankets, breathing slowly and gently. It still smelt like her, he noted. The slight chemical scent of the latex suit mingled with a soft warmth he would never have suspected she had. He sighed and sunk deeper. The wounds on his body had closed, but still itched. Still reminded him of the punishment she had inflicted on him on his first day. Of how his heart had beat in his chest like a jackhammer as she snarled down at him.

Of how his fear was slowly turning to arousal.

His face flushed bright red. Every day for almost a week he had been in her presence: had watched her pace or lounge about in a suit tight enough to expose everything about her body. Every toned muscle and outrageous curve was hugged, and the shine of the suit in what little light poured in from the cave’s entrance only exaggerated them further. Each creak or squeak echoed through the cave and drew his attention to her swinging hips, or her impressive bust, or to the delicate fingers that ran across his skin. Each touch of her human hand was smooth, almost metallic, and left a trail of goose-bumps in its wake. The sharp tips of her claws brought a panicked shiver up his spine that made his whole body tingle. Even watching her leave was a delight; not because it left him alone but because he got to watch her plump arse and generous thighs squeeze against the fabric as she took to the sky.

It had been four days, and whilst she kept him alive other desires went unmet. And it was becoming harder and harder to resist the urges. Even now, just the smell of her lingering on the blankets was enough to send the blood rushing to his groin. He had resisted, out of fear for her wrath and the embarrassment of being caught, but his limit was reached. He fumbled at his trousers, the clatter of buttons setting him on edge again. Every other second was a hesitant pause as he waited for her to swoop in and catch him. He knew she would be gone but still nerves wracked him. Hairs raised across his now exposed legs. His cock strained against his boxers before they too slid away. A sharp intake of breath; even amidst her nest, the cave was still bitterly cold. His fingers wrapped around the shaft, the heat of hand and member bleeding into the other, and slowly stroked himself. His breath quickly grew heavier, his rhythm faster. It had been far too long, and he was far too sensitive. His eyes closed as pressure built, pre smearing itself over his hands and shaft. He imagined her body in the twilight, her creaking silhouette stalking the night. Her shining curves, tapping claws and elegant lips. Even her voice seemed real.

“Enjoying yourself, are we?”

His heart stopped and eyes opened. His dream was standing before him, eyes bright in the darkness and staring down at his prone form. An apologetic shout was sharply cut off as her boot kicked his hand from his crotch and slammed itself against him; pinning the desperately throbbing shaft beneath the rough heel.

“Well, well. I thought you might be sneaking your way into my bed but I had no idea you were using it for such disgusting things.” LadyDevimon’s sneer grew as she ground her heel against him. The hard rubber painfully dragged across the underside of Aaron’s cock; his hands tightened around the blankets as he winced. “How long has this been going on, runt? How many times have you defiled my personal space with your filthy habits?”  
“Th-this is the first time, I swear!” He said.

“Oh? You’ve been holding out all this time, huh? My, you must be all backed up from not getting your daily fix.” A sharp gasp followed as she pressed harder. She leant in closer, long claws gently pushing his embarrassed face up to hers. “I’m in a good mood, so I’ll tell you what; if you beg for my forgiveness I might just overlook this little incident. I’d prefer if you didn’t, though. Punishing you for your insolence would be so much more fun.”  
“I… I’m sorry, Mistress.” Aaron said. He tried to turn his eyes away from her but the grip on his cheeks tightened, and once again he forced himself to stare into her scarlet gaze.

“I didn’t ask for an apology!” She pressed harder, grinding her heel and smiling as he writhed in pain. “I asked you to beg me for forgiveness, worm! Now, are you going to be a good pet or am I going to have to get my claws wet again?”

“No! No, no…” He could feel the scarlet talons glide across his cheek, leaving cold fear in their wake. “F-forgive me… Please…”

“Oh, you can do better than that. I’m almost convinced you want me to punish you.”

“Forgive me… Mistress… Forgive me for… for masturbating in your bed.” Aaron whimpered.

“Oh, that’s so much better.” The pressure her heel was placing on his shaft slowly slackened. “Once more, slave. And make it as pathetic as possible for me.”

“Please, M-Mistress… Please forgive me for masturbating to you.” The words tumbled out before he could stop himself. His eyes widened and heart stopped. Even her gaze seemed to falter slightly.

“You…”

“I-I’m sorry! I wasn’t really-“

“You disgusting piece of filth!” Her grip on his face tightened, her mouth curling into a snarl. “I thought you were a pervert before, but this? Masturbating to a Digimon?! You sicken me!” Her heel reasserted itself on his cock, forcing a cry of pain from him. She ran her sole along the length of his shaft, twisting and grinding her foot into his flesh. He was shocked by how quickly he was at full mast again, the pre almost pouring out of him and onto the shining latex of her boots.

“Is this what you were imagining, pervert?” She threw him back into the blankets, knocking the breath from him as her foot continued run along his cock. “Is this what you were thinking about while you jerked off your pathetic, unwashed prick?”

“S-stop! I-I’m sorry!”

“Or maybe you were thinking of something else, hmm?” Her human hand reached up to her chest, groping her own rubber-covered chest as she stared down at him. “Were you thinking about squeezing my breasts? Or maybe you prefer my ass? Have you been staring at me this whole time, adding to your fantasies? It’d be almost laughably pathetic if I wasn't so disgusted!”

“I-I… A-ah… I-I’m sorry, Mistress…” He moaned. The ball of her foot ground against the tip of his cock, pressing it into his stomach and running circles along the sensitive flesh. He bit his lip to hold back another groan of pleasure. “P-please forgive me…”

“Oh?” LadyDevimon said. Her expression seemed to soften slightly, her ministrations against his cock losing their rough edge. “And why should I forgive you, slave?”

“I-I… I promise I won’t do it again…” He bit his lip. His hips bucked ever so slightly, and her cruel smile returned.

“Promise not to do what again?” She almost purred as her human hand slid along her body, squeezing her curves as they creaked beneath the shining black suit. Her sole slowed again, focusing on the head of his cock and holding him on the very edge of orgasm. He could feel the pressure desperately bubbling at the base of his cock, begging for release.

“I-I… I promise I won’t… masturbate to you anymore, Mistress...” Aaron’s eyes followed her hand as it slid up her thigh and over her stomach.

“A tempting offer…” Her tongue flicked out and ran along a finger, leaving a trail of saliva that dripped gently between her digits just as her heel ground up the underside of his cock. “But I have a better one. I’ll forgive you, Slave. In fact, I’ll even let you cum right here and now if you want me to. All you have to do is promise me one little thing: that you will never touch your dirty little cock ever again.”

“What?!” Aaron cried. She ground along his shaft again and the remainder of his protests turned to a pathetic whimper. He was so close... so painfully close! “I…”

“Well, slave? You do want to be forgiven by Mistress, don’t you?”

“I-I…” His eyes closed and he swallowed. “I promise.”

“Swear it.”

“I swear I’ll never touch my filthy cock again! J-just please… please let me cum! Please, Mistress!”

She chuckled. And for a moment he wanted to scream as her foot left his cock completely. But finally she pressed back against him, running her rubber sole up and down his twitching, sensitive flesh. His back arched and his grip on the blankets tightened as his cock erupted: his cum splattering along his stomach. His whole body shook as the last pathetic spurts leaked out of him, pooling beneath his mistress’ boot. She lifted herself from him, bringing the claws down to gently move a loose lock of hair from his sweat soaked face.

“Did that feel good, slave?” She purred. He just nodded, his brain too clouded to form a coherent thought. “Mistress forgives you for jerking your pathetic prick to her. Just don’t touch your little cock again, or Mistress will punish you. Do you understand?”

He nodded.

“Good. Now get out of my bed, slave. I can’t stand even the smell of you, let alone your presence.” He rolled out of the pile of blankets, crawling across the floor toward his grubby nest. He reached for his discarded trousers, but his hand felt only cold stone. “Looking for these, slave? I may have forgiven you, but Mistress still needs to make sure you don’t break your promise. I’m taking away your clothing privileges, just so that I can make absolutely sure you aren’t jerking that revolting little thing you call a dick. Maybe if you’re really good I’ll let you touch it again, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

Aaron curled himself into a tight ball amidst his sleeping bag as her cackling laughter echoed through the cave. His cheeks burnt bright red, and already he could feel his cock twitch as the fresh memories of her abuse bled into the fantasies that floated in his mind. He quietly cursed himself and settled in to sleep. He already knew the kind of dreams he would have that night, and none of them would help him fulfil his desperate promise.


	3. Surrender

The next two days were agony. On the morning of the first Aaron had awoken to the soft creaking of LadyDevimon as she made her way toward the entrance of the cave, no doubt to begin her morning scout. He kept his head low, pretending to be asleep and moving his head just enough to watch her. She leant out the cave, back arched as she peered into the world and gave him an uninterrupted view of her splendid arse. He felt his cock stir and he forced himself to look away as he remembered the promise he had foolishly made. At least with her gone he could focus on something else, he reminded himself.

Naturally, that was when everything started going wrong.

He looked back up just in time to see her withdraw from the cave mouth, a knowing smile on her grey lips. Slowly –far too slowly to be a coincidence- she began to move back toward her nest of blankets, stretching her arms above her head and letting out a satisfied little moan. Her hips swayed gently from side to side. The chains tinkled and the latex creaked. Her swagger was slow and deliberate, the trip from end to end of the cave taking far longer than it should have. And she seemed to be making absolutely sure she was in full view of him as she did it. Aaron swallowed. She sat back in the mound of blankets, languidly stretching her long, elegant legs out in front of her. Her arms draped over the back of the pile, her chest pressed forward as she settled in and let her head roll back, exposing the pale skin of her neck.

“How’s the view, slave?” She finally said.

“I-I…” Aaron curled back into the sleeping bag, trying to keep his eyes on the floor.

“Oh, please. You weren’t so timid about ogling me yesterday.” A short chuckle, followed by the creak of rubber as she lay across the blanket nest on her back. Her human hand idly ran itself up her stomach.

“Why aren’t you out hunting, o-or keeping watch?”

“I didn’t give you permission to ask questions. But I suppose I can indulge you.” She let out a little grunt as she arched her back and rolled her shoulders. “Even a dedicated mistress like me needs some rest. Especially after all I’ve done for you. I thought I would take a little time off to relax. If you have a problem with it, slave, I can think of something else I could do to occupy my time…” Her scarlet claws clicked together.

Aaron shook his head, biting his lip and ignoring the increased flow of blood to his groin.

The rest of the day was spent in much the same way; with her shifting from one position to the next, constantly emphasising all the curves of her body. If it wasn’t her chest thrust upwards, the dim light reflecting along the curve of her breast, it was on her side with her plump arse straining against the rubber, or her hand gliding across her taut stomach and long legs. Every movement brought the tinkle of the chains and the endless creaking that reminded Aaron of her teasing no matter how hard he tried to avert his eyes or cover his ears. Even when retreated as deep into his grubby nest as possible he was still barraged by the images of her posing, and the subtle sound of semi-sensual moaning as she stretched her limbs. It didn’t take long for his cock to reach full hardness, its warmth and desperation a constant reminder of his pledge. Of his servitude.

The next day was much the same, with his Mistress once again sauntering to the end of the cave. Once again she bent at her hips, the heart shape formed by her legs and arse pointed firmly toward him. Once again she strode over to the nest and began her posturing and stretching, little grunts perking up his desperate libido. He held his head in his hands and tried desperately to think of something else. Something to distract him. But it was only him and her in this cave; his arousal and her teasing. He could even hear her chuckle at him as he squirmed. Once or twice she had taken from their supply of food, slowly experimenting with the various junk she had brought him. The way she handled every meal was outright pornographic: her fingers were sucked clean slowly, and with a lewd pop; every bite was met with a low moan; and her habit of gently rubbing her stomach at the end of each meal, the rubber squeaking against itself, only forced Aaron back into his horny isolation. She didn’t even bother with the chuckling on those occasions; she just outright cackled at his despair.

The third day came. She didn’t even bother to make her way to the cave entrance this time, instead opting to loudly stretch and settle back into her bed. When Aaron peaked out, desperate to leave his stagnant position, her back was to him. Her cloth wings had settled across her, the chain links gently rattling as she breathed slowly. Even just looking at her was making his cock twitch, and a small reshuffle of her legs brought his attention back to how her thighs seemed to strain a little against the black rubber with every movement. His stomach rumbled. He crept forward, shivering a little in the cool air. His face flushed bright red as the goose-bumps across his skin reminded him of his nudity. Each step was gentle and deliberate as he inched forward; reaching for one of the packaged junk food he’d survived off of for this long.

“Slave.” His mistress said. He stopped dead in his tracks, one hand leaping to cover his shame. “Bring me that blanket.”

“What… blanket?” He asked. A harsh chuckle and a soft thud. He grimaced a little, stepping back and reaching for the thrown fabric. He hobbled over to her, still trying to hide as much of him as he could with his hand. She was lying on her back, idly dragging her monstrous claw along the walls; the scraping sound reminding him again of how sharp they were. His heartbeat grew faster the nearer he got, and it made hiding his shame all the more difficult. She looked him up and down, a smirk breaking out over her grey face.

“I thought I told you to keep your hand away from your filthy cock, slave?”

“Y-you did, b-but-“

“No buts.” Her claws sharply scratched the stone. “Move your hand, or I’ll remove both it and your disgusting prick.”

He swallowed. His face burnt brighter and his cock throbbed harder with every insult. His hands shook wildly as the red eyes stared him down, mischief and cruel anticipation looking over his frame. With a deep breath and closed eyes he slowly pulled away his hand, letting his shaft bob freely from his hips in its semi-hard state. Her barely contained snicker made it twitch further into life.

“I’d almost forgotten how pathetic it was.” She said. “Is this as hard as it gets, or am I just not good enough for you anymore?” 

“That’s… not it at all, Mistress…”

“Is that so? Why don’t you go ahead and tell your mistress exactly what you think of her, hmm? I promise I won’t punish you too harshly.”

“You…” He swallowed. He turned his eyes away, his member growing as her gaze fixated upon it. “You’re a… merciful mistress. A… fair one.”

“Oh, such flattery. But what of my body, slave?” 

“Y-your-!”

“What’s the matter? You didn’t have any problems thinking about it when you were stroking your disgusting cock to me.” The human hand ran over her ample breasts, the rubber squeaking gently. It descended further, slipping between her thighs. Aaron’s eyes followed it, before quickly snapping back to her face as she chuckled.

“I-I… Um. Your breasts a-are huge… and you’re so tall, and the way your suit hugs you i-is… is…” He petered out, brain racing as her amused look did nothing to reassure him. “A-and, um… I can’t stop… thinking about when you… you…”

“How revolting. Cumming from my boot on your cock… and enjoying it! Is nothing beneath you?” She said. He shook his head, his cock swaying a little at full hardness. For a split second he could have sworn she bit her lip, before her hand leapt forward and firmly cupped his sack. It was sudden enough to make him squeak. “You must be so backed up. So desperate to cum.”

Aaron nodded. His cheeks burnt as she slowly rolled his balls in her hand, gently squeezing. He whimpered, his cock’s twitches growing more and more desperate as the warm rubber brushed along his sensitive skin. She sat up and gently guided him to his knees.

“So very desperate. I’ve barely touched you and you’re dripping with pre.” She purred. And it was true; a translucent bead had already formed at his tip. The smooth fingers slipped away from his sack, slowly sliding up his stomach. His breathing grew shallower as her digits crossed his collarbone, gently rubbing his cheek. Slowly the tip of one brushed along his half open lips. She pressed gently and he didn’t resist. He wrapped his lips around her elegant fingers, tongue playing gently with the tip as he lightly sucked. The taste of her suit was not unpleasant, but the act of submission forced another bud of pre-cum to form, the first slowly dripping down the underside of his shaft. Her finger slowly withdrew, leaving a little trail of saliva from his outstretched tongue. “Do you want to touch me, slave?”

“… yes…” He breathed.

“Do you want mistress to let you cum?”

“Yes.”

“Will you do whatever your merciful mistress asks of you?”

“Yes!”

“Good slave.” She pushed her fingers forward again, and he gladly wrapped his lips around them. Gently they thrust in and out as his tongue lavished the smooth tips, his cock twitching in time. When they were utterly soaked she withdrew them, leaving him breathless and wanting. They descended, and slowly his mistress’ hand wrapped about his shaft. He shuddered as the warmth and wetness enveloped it; bit his lip tightly as her fingers slowly pumped up and down his shaft. He watched her eyes flick from her motions and back up to his face, a deep hunger he had never seen gleaming from the scarlet depths. Soon his prick was slathered in shining spit, and slowly she sat back. She let out a low chuckle as he whimpered, silently begging her to finish. Instead she laid herself down, her ample chest squished beneath her body as she relaxed.

“Make yourself useful, slave, and massage my shoulders. All that flying has left me so… tense.” She smiled at him, motioning with her head. He hesitated. Another jerk of her head and he slowly straddled her back, reaching over to gently rub her shoulders. The material creaked beneath his fingers. She let out a long, satisfied sigh as his fingers worked, her cloth wings fluttering gently. “Would you kindly sit further back?”

He slid onto her lower back.

“Further, slave.”

He slid past her ample arse, resting on her thighs and straining to reach her shoulders. She moaned aloud, wriggling beneath him. And suddenly her order made sense; he gasped as her latex behind ground up against his crotch. His fingers faltered and she growled, grinding her warm body harder against his still soaked cock. The longer he maintained his poor attempt at a massage the faster her plump arse ground along his cock, the soft flesh pressing against his body and smothering both him and the straining fabric with his pre.

“Oh, yes…” She groaned. Her hips wriggled, teasing his tip even more and making him gasp. “Does it feel good for you, slave?”

“Y-yes, Mistress…” Aaron managed to say. He shuddered, his thighs on the verge of collapse as his desperate cock eroded his restraint. He could feel his hands tremble against her as he worked.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re already about to cum.” His mistress smiled back at him. Even in the darkness of the cave he could tell that what little of her cheeks peeked out from her mask had gained a slight tinge of colour. “If you cum now, then you’ll miss out on so much more. Last a little longer, and maybe I’ll let you touch my breasts. Oh, can you imagine how soft they must be? How warm… how they must feel between your fingers. Mmm… my, you really like the sound of that, didn’t you?” She whacked his hands as they started to descend down her back. “Not until I say so, slave!”

“S-sorry, Mistress!” He bit his lip, trying to ignore the wonderful rubbing that ran along his underside. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears as the pressure at the base of his groin reached truly painful levels.  
“You poor, desperate thing. Maybe if you’re good enough, I’ll let you go further.” She smirked back at him. “If I’m feeling generous, I might even let you have a taste of my warm… wet… cunt.”

Aaron cried out as he came; her hips had ground ferociously against his with each word of her last sentence, driving him over the edge. His knees shook as his cock pulsed, cum splattering across her back. His breath came in short bursts as he struggled to hold himself above her. 

“By Lord Daemon, how pathetic! You couldn’t even last long enough to get what you really wanted. Are all human men this useless, or are you just a special exception?” Her laughter was cruel and heartless, but still the faintest of life twitched back into his wilting cock. Her words no longer stung him, merely tingled curiously. He slid, somewhat embarrassed from her, staring down at the floor as his cock dripped.

“S-sorry, Mistress… I-I’ll do better next time…”

“How presumptuous. What makes you think there’ll even be a next time with that kind of performance?” His pleading eyes turned to her, wide in horror as she cackled. The monstrous claw gently cupped his face, the sharp tips tapping against him. The colour in her face had stayed. “I love it when you beg. Continue being a good, obedient slave and maybe I’ll let you cum again. Do you want that, slave?”

“Yes, mistress.” He said quickly.

“Good. Now, clean your disgusting load from my back. I don’t want your filth staining me.”


	4. Embrace

He’d stopped counting the days. Not out of choice; after a while it all blurred together into one long sequence. He remembered the initial capture and the torture from his first few rebellious days. He remembered the first time she had been kind. And he remembered when she had first let him cum. But after that he couldn’t tell you how things happened or when. It was just him and his mistress: him bowing and her rewards. He never did get to touch himself again, but he didn’t need to. Didn’t want to. Mistress provided for him if he was a good boy. And every time she would remind him of how good a slave he was. Her orders grew more and more humiliating and yet he leapt to them without question. Once she’d even made him lick her boots clean. He’d enjoyed it, and especially enjoyed the soft warmth of her rubber-clad breasts rubbing along his cock afterwards. Every orgasm was a reward, and every reward was earned.

It did mean that, when she finally scooped him into her arms and flown from their dank little home, he had no idea what day it was. No indication of where in his old life he would be. As they soared above forests and later the urban sprawl, the rush of wind blotting out the sounds of life and the wind chilling him to the bone, a faint pang of longing filled his heart. It soon faded. And it especially vanished when his mistress dove from the air and toward a quaint little park, replacing itself with dreadful panic. He held his tongue, refusing to scream in front of her –he was a good slave, and good slaves didn’t scream unless she asked them to- but still his eyes closed as the ground neared. 

The impact never came. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and gasped. The world he saw was a blackened plain, expanding far past the horizon. It seemed desolate, almost cruel in nature. His Mistress’ cloth wings beat slowly, gliding across the desolate waste.

“Where… are we?” He said. He licked his dry lips, though the moisture barely stayed.

“The digital world. A little trip into the human world is fun, but I could never stay in that miserable place. Home is so much more enjoyable.” She replied. Her eyes stayed firmly fixed ahead.

“Are we… going to see Lord Daemon?” He had heard tales of her master. None of them especially encouraging. Luckily, her short bark of laughter eased his nerves.

“Return to him? After all this time? I serve him well, but I’m not so stupid as to expect him to welcome me with open arms. No, slave. We’ll be paying a little visit to my sisters first of all.”

“Sisters?”

“Hundreds of them. All LadyDevimon and all of them just as cruel and heartless as me!” She flashed him a vicious smile. “The spoils of war usually go only to the victor, but I think it’s only fair they all get a chance to enjoy you. Who knows, maybe they’ll sneak into your world and steal their own little pet?”

He had stopped listening, his heart leaping in his chest. She’d said enjoy. Mistress enjoyed him enough to share! He shook his head quickly; the thought of a hundred of his mistress was sending hot flushes along his body. He wasn’t allowed to think such things without her permission. He wasn’t supposed to think about anyone but her… He squirmed a little, nestling back into her body as the chill wind blew across his naked skin. He could feel her warmth ebb into him; faintly hear the soft rubber creak. It was as if he was surrounded totally by her, even as the elements battered against him. Before he knew it, his eyes were closed and his breath slow and steady. He could have sworn he felt something lightly stroke his hair as he drifted into sleep.

The sleep was fitful; frequently a change of direction or a sharp manoeuvre would jostle him awake. Despite frequent forays into dreams he always seemed just on the verge of slipping again. His mistress never seemed to tire, however, even as blasted wasteland turned to gnarled forest. He had no idea how long they had been travelling, nor how far they had come. This whole world was totally alien to him, but she seemed to read the horizon like a map. Strange beasts crawled and roared on the lands beneath, the sounds of titanic conflicts and territorial disputes floating up to him. Once or twice his Mistress swung lower, avoiding some airborne behemoth. It was little wonder this world bred such monsters as her.

Eventually night fell, blanketing the world in twilight. Slowly they descended, taking refuge in a shallow cave in some twisted mountainside. It was dry, and sheltered, but offered little in the way of comfort. They had left much of their previous encampment behind, forcing them both to spend the night on hard stone. Naturally, it was his job to clear away the worst of the detritus. By the time the cave was serviceable they both seemed exhausted; his muscles ached and eyes drooped, and even his Mistress’ cruelty seemed to be tempered. With scarcely a taunting word she curled into a ball at the back of the cave, back toward him as he found himself nestled besides the opening. Despite his exhaustion he could not find sleep as easily as before. He shivered in evening air, his teeth clattering. He curled tighter, pressing up against cool stone and trying desperately to avoid the harshness of this world’s night.

“Are you cold, slave?” She murmured.

“Yes…” He said. He waited for her to respond with some cruel jab. A few silent seconds passed, before her human hand gently rose from her curled body and beckoned him forward. It took him a second to register. He was never allowed to sleep beside Mistress. She hated his presence. She beckoned again. He shivered, and slowly crawled toward her, fingers and toes numb. He let himself nestle by her back, but her monstrous hand seized him and yanked him to the very back of the very back of the cave. His heart beat faster as his head came to rest inches from her ample bosom. “Th-thank you, Mistress.”

She didn’t say a word. She just slowly curled tighter around him. He recoiled on instinct, panic sweeping him as the scars on his torso burned with phantom pains. He wasn’t supposed to… he shouldn’t… Her breath was warm… His eyelids were heavy and the draw of her warmth too powerful. Resting his head against her chest he pulled himself closer, and to his surprise her arms curled tightly around him. Her tall, elegant body dwarfed his own, surrounding him again in that wonderful comfort from the flight. But this was better; there was no wind to blow away the warm mix of acrid latex and soft flesh. No sharp turns to distract either of them. Their breath slowly settled into the same slow, heavy rhythm. His eyes closed tightly and his head nuzzled closer to her, creaking the latex as her breasts became his pillow. Her limbs pulled their bodies closer, squishing his frailty against her strength. He could feel her shift, as if unsure as to how to cradle him.

His cheeks burnt as the proximity to her began stirring his body. His hands, pressed tightly to his chest, itched to reach out and feel her. He was torn between curling up into a ball to save them both from some embarrassment and letting her awkward hold press him flush against her. Recollections of her rewards flooded his mind, poisoning her affection with his own lust. He whimpered a little as his cock twitched into life, desperately throbbing as it was pressed into her stomach. There was no way she wouldn’t notice. No question as to whether or not he would be punished.

And then her breath caught. His ears pricked up and his head lifted, looking into her face. Her eyes opened, looking down at him with an expression he couldn’t place. Her cheeks had turned that rare shade of greyish pink again. Her hips ground back at him, rubbing the underside of his shaft against the smooth latex. They both seemed to gasp.

“You little pervert.” She breathed. A smile tugged at her lips; even her chastising seemed less… mean-spirited. “Is this really all it takes to get you desperate? And I suppose you expect me to take care of it.”  
He began to protest, but already he was on his back and she was straddling his hips. The human hand held his chest down while the monstrous claw kept her balance. She ran her crotch along his cock, shuddering slightly. He shuddered too; the smooth rubber glided across his skin, her warm body pinning the tip of his shaft to his stomach. Her thighs clenched tightly around him, squeezing his waist as hers rolled and twisted, grinding elaborate routes along his needy flesh. He bit his lip, watching the faint shine on her body as it moved. On instinct his hands moved up to her legs, stroking down the sides. One rubber, the other exposed flesh. She hissed and hesitated, before pressing harder into him. Her eyes were closed and her mouth hung slightly open; her breathing turning wilder. His hands grew bolder, sneaking up to squeeze her arse and to his surprise she didn’t stop him. He could swear he heard a moan leak out as she ground against his tip.

“That’s enough!” She panted. Her eyes shot open, her hand moving from his chest to his cock as her hips lifted away. He stifled a protest out of habit, but soon he grew silent anyway as her hand tugged at the metallic staples that held the belly of her suit together. Slowly, grey flesh peeked out her navel, the seam moving lower and lower until the flesh of her crotch was exposed. He stared, dumbstruck as she gently pried open her hidden lips, exposing the soft flesh of her cunt. She grabbed his cock, and with a long sigh of pleasure lowered herself onto him. “I can’t believe I’m letting a… pathetic cock like yours inside me.”  
He moaned aloud, his hips thrusting upwards as the heat enveloped him. Slowly her hips began to roll again, the inner walls squeezing around his shaft. Despite her size she was impossibly tight. She shook against him, her human hand sliding to rub her clit as the monstrous claws pinned him against the ground, the talons clacking next to his head.

“Is this what you were thinking about, all those days ago?” She said. She groaned as she pressed her hips firmly against his, taking him all the way to his hilt. “This must be a dream...hah… come true for you, pervert. Getting fucked by your merciful mistress. I should have let you freeze… I… I can barely even feel you inside me…”

And yet her hips kept bouncing, her arse slapping against his thighs; her hand kept rubbing at her cunt it slid along his cock; her breath grew shallower and shallower. The clawed hand pulled away and her human one grabbed his arm, pulling him up to grope her chest as her head rolled back. He squeezed and kneaded the soft flesh beneath the rubber, rolling his thumb in circles around where he expected her nipple to be. Her hips wriggled and her thighs trembled. The quickened pace was almost beginning to hurt, as her body crashed against his over and over, but the tightness of her cunt and the warm wetness that soaked into him kept him going. Kept him weakly thrusting into her. Kept him groping and rubbing and panting as his Mistress melted atop him. He felt her thighs tighten again around his waist and with a scream she slammed down upon him. Spasms wracked her body and her cunt clamed around his cock, the pulsing aftershocks running along him. He screwed his eyes shut and let the pressure explode out of him; let himself be milked by her orgasm.

They stayed that way for a few seconds, breath knocked out of them both. Her talons had dug slightly into him, leaving shallow cuts in his shoulders and torso. But the pain didn’t matter. Not as she pulled herself from his cock. Not as she slumped onto her side and pulled him back into the tightly curled ball of warmth. Not as he forgot entirely about the clean-up she usually demanded and simply buried himself into her body. They just lay there together in each other’s shaking heat, her human hand holding his head lightly against her shoulder.

“You should… thank your Mistress. For being so kind…” She said, her breath tickling his hair.

“Thank you… thank you… Mistress…” He replied, his eyes flickering shut. He never did hear her reply as he drifted away, but he dreamed she’d thanked him back.


	5. Legion

Aaron shivered in the cold air, his bare footsteps echoing through the baroque stone corridor. The chain wrapped around his neck clinked with every movement, either of him or of his beloved Mistress as she guided him. His naked skin was covered in goosebumps, save for his face and groin as blood rushed to both. He could feel invisible eyes bore into him as he walked. His heart beat was nigh erratic, pounding in his ears with every step. His gaze stayed low, either ashamed and to the ground, or upward and focused on the wonderful sight of his Mistress’ arse as it moved beneath the shining latex. The fear and shame only added to his arousal, his hardened cock bobbing in front of him as he walked. His Mistress tugged his leash and he stumbled forwards, trying to match her long strides. She said she had a surprise for him. That meant he was a good slave, didn’t it?

The room was vast and made of the same stone as the rest of the fortress, albeit decorated in rich tapestries and peppered with gothic windows. The fur rug tickled his feet as he made his way to the centre of the hall. The flickering torchlight cast twisted shadows across the floor and filled the room with a dim, smoky air. In the deep corners and hidden nooks he could just about make out pinpoints of crimson light; a dozen pairs of eyes scanning and staring at his scratched and scarred body. He swallowed, standing as still as he could whilst his Mistress undid the chain around his neck. That meant he was a very good slave. That he could be trusted not to run away.

“Well, sisters. I hope you’ll have as much fun with him as I have.” His Mistress purred. The pinpricks grew closer, shadowy forms coalescing into humanoid shape. Aaron’s eyes widened and his breath caught. All of them, every last one, were identical to her. A perfect copy of a perfect mistress. They crawled and strode, stalked and hovered. They drew closer and closer, full of sadistic curiosity and predatory smirk.

“He’s so small.” Said one.

“So scared.” Said another.

“So… pathetic.” Said a third with a grin. 

“From the way you were talking I expected him to be bigger.” One dragged a sharp claw along the underside of his shaft and sent a bolt of wonderful fear up his spine.

“Your standards must be lower than I thought if this is what you’ve been raving about.” They laughed together, a rush of heat hitting Aaron’s cheeks. He tensed as one dragged her claws down his chest, following a familiar path. Another bit his earlobe, nibbling gently with her fangs.

“Don’t worry, sisters. What he lacks in virility and pride he more than makes up for with obedience.” His Mistress reached forward, gently caressing his cheek with her sharpened talons. “Isn’t that right slave?”

“Y-yes, Mistress…” he said. Another clone crept up behind him, her human hand running its fingers down his stomach as her tongue flicked across his neck. A pair of hands ran themselves along his cock, the latex gliding across his skin and sending a little shudder up his spine. “I live… to serve you…”

That was all the convincing the swarm needed; they lunged in unison, surrounding him in creaking, squeaking and giggling bodies. Aaron cried out as tongues darted across his bare flesh, flicking across nipple and scar and scratch. Fangs scraped and hands groped, lips kissed and fingers prodded. One cupped his balls gently, rolling them in her fingers whilst another lapped along his shaft and flicked away the bead of pre at the tip. His lips found another’s, her tongue diving into his mouth and roughly dancing with his. His knees buckled beneath him, and he collapsed into the embrace of one, who knelt and brought his head to rest on her ample bosom. Every inch of him was pressed or rubbed or grasped by smooth, warm rubber. An elegant finger slipped into his mouth and he suckled gently, his tongue swirling about the digit with abandon. His twitching cock was passed between firm grips, hot mouth and wet tongues over and over, the pressure building quickly. With a whimper his hand tightened around an inviting thigh and his face buried itself into an exposed collarbone; his hips bucked upwards and he felt his first orgasm of the night explode into the air and settle on the mass of bodies. An embarrassed flush joined the heat of his skin as they erupted into another round of laughter.

“Is that it?”

“How disappointing!”

“Poor thing.”

“Now, now, sisters… the real fun is about to begin.” One purred. He couldn’t tell if it was his mistress or not; he had long ago lost her in the sea of bodies. She was bold, though. Slowly she pressed his legs apart, pushing the others away as she crawled up his body. A little life twitched back into his cock as she pulled apart the stitch at her crotch, before the warmth of her cunt enveloped him. He bit his lip. He had to remember he was for Mistress’ pleasure. Had to remember… but it felt so good. She was so hot and tight as she slowly rolled her hips up and down his shaft. As she pressed her tall frame against his, squeezing him against both her suit and the suit of the other who supported him. As she crushed his face into her rubbery bosom and slammed her hips against his. His hands flew to her thighs, creeping up both smooth flesh and even smoother material until his fingers could dig into the soft flesh of her arse. She moaned aloud and her rhythm grew wilder.

The others moved their caresses from his body to hers, rubbing and squeezing and licking her bare flesh as they did his. She leaned toward one and their lips met amidst low moans and desperate groping. Lips peppered his sack and shaft when her pussy lips lifted from his hips. Her cunt squeezed as she bounced, desperately trying to milk another orgasm from him. The stink of rubber and sweat clouded his senses. Hisses of breath and gasps of pleasure told him that the crowd had taken matters into their own hands, with fingers slipping into stitches and rubbing along wet lips. Had he not just finished, he suspected he would have cum merely from the thought. But as it was his sensitive cock refused to yield release so easily. She kept bouncing, her plump backside smacking his thighs. She threw her head back and screamed, body convulsing around his cock. It felt good to make his Mistress cum, he managed to think amidst the dizzying sensations. He was a good slave.

They pulled the still twitching digimon from him, and soon he was propped onto his knees, staring forward at another. She too was on her knees, but there was no loss in power; her hips swayed gently from side to side as her inviting arse beckoned him. A smooth hand guided him into her, and his hips began to move. A warm body enveloped him from behind, hand at the base of his shaft and slowly setting the pace. A playful black hand smacked his new lover, setting the soft flesh jiggling slightly. A flurry of motion brought another body before him, held aloft by the enormous claws of others. This one wrapped her thighs around his head and drew his mouth to her crotch, forcing him to drink her nectar and to lap at the soaked folds. He did so eagerly, his hands cupping her buttocks to hold her to him. Still the one behind him held his cock. Still she moved his hips with her own, as if to use him as a proxy for fucking her clone.

Time slipped away and everything became a blur. He remembered his cock being milked of every drop by tight cunts and eager mouths; remembered feeling it rubbed between the wet folds of two kissing clones; remembered chains holding him in contorted positions as they shared his body between them. He came more times than he could remember. Felt his limbs ache and his body collapse. But still they used him. Still they thrust and bounced and held him apart long enough force another pathetic spurt from his cock. Still they clamoured and climbed over themselves to use him as a living dildo and convulse in bliss. He was exhausted, his mind lost amidst so many hazes and such wonderful sensations. If his mistresses demanded more, as he knew they would, and he would gladly give it. 

He was a beloved toy, and they would use him until he broke.


End file.
